


Boromir - Being More Than Just The Man Who Succumbed To The Ring

by FeralCreed



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreed/pseuds/FeralCreed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was prompted by ohmaglor's post on tumblr. Told from Boromir's point of view. It shows that Boromir was more than just a victim of the Ring, that he was a good man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gimli on the subject of Erebor

“Gimli! Tell me more about Erebor, if you will.” The dwarf stops and I pause as well, hoping that I have not somehow offended him.

“Erebor?” He seems to think carefully about my words. “Why would you want to learn about Erebor?”

He's suspicious, but not hostile. “It sounds like a great dwarven kingdom.” I answer truthfully, knowing that lies will be of no use to either of us. “A place of pride for all your people. Won and guarded by warriors of renown.”

“Aye, that is true,” Gimli agrees. He starts walking again, and I with him. “Erebor used to be known as The Lonely Mountain. Many, many years ago, when my great-grandfather was alive, Erebor was the center of trade. The elves and men came to our markets, and paid even the least talented of our workers great amounts if they would come to work for them. We were peaceful and prosperous. Then the dragon Smaug learned of our wealth. He gave us no warning.”

As Gimli continues to talk, I find that I am truly interested in what he has to say. I had heard of Erebor, had heard of its greatness, but only from dry words on paper. Gimli speaks with the love and admiration of someone who had been in the very halls. His father, I learn, was one of the dwarves who followed Thorin Oakenshield on his quest to slay Smaug and take back Erebor. One of fifteen, counting the wizard Gandalf and the hobbit Bilbo. It seems that Bilbo himself has more of a history with the Ring than it appears. He was the one who found it on that journey. Now I understand why he offered to take the Ring to Mordor, why he said that he ought to finish what he had started.

Erebor becomes a place almost of legend as Gimli talks. He has lived there almost his entire life, but he is reverent of his ancestors and their trials. He was there when the dwarves killed by Smaug were laid to rest, and I think that that affected him more than he admits. It can be no easy thing to commend almost all of four generations to their graves. But it is pride and honor, instead of ruinous disgrace, that is foremost in his speech.

“Gimli,” I say suddenly, unaware of the words until I am speaking them. “Would I be allowed to come to Erebor and see its glory?”

“Aye, I suppose so,” he agrees, looking as surprised as I feel. “We dwarves will give you a royal welcome. In fact, if we pass through Moria, my cousin Balin will give you a taste of what's to come!”

“I am honored,” I tell him. My father might not be happy, but right now Minis Tirith is a thousand miles away, and Gimli and I are walking side by side. Whatever the others may think, I am honored, and I hope that I can earn the respect that Gimli is starting to show me. “You mentioned a thing called an Arkenstone. Why was it a symbol to which other dwarf-kings would be sworn to uphold?”

“It was the heart of Erebor, the heart of the Mountain. We delved deep to find the fairest gems and the brightest mithril. When the Arkenstone was found, Thrain and Thror used it as a sign that the gods had favored their rule. All their allies swore their allegiance to the dwarf who ruled Erebor from beneath its light. In old carvings, it was depicted as set above the king's throne. Whether that was true or not, I never learned, but I like to think that it was.”

“Where is it now? Such a wondrous jewel must be loved by all your people.”

“It is entombed with Thorin, who sought it above all else.”

There is hidden meaning in those words. I remember that Thorin died defending Erebor, and his nephews with him. Did he betray them to save the Arkenstone? I don't have the courage to ask, and instead say, “How did he take it from the dragon?”

Now Gimli is smiling, and he speaks with fondness as he says, “That was done by the burglar. Bilbo Baggins, uncle to young Frodo there. Gandalf chose him as a member of the company. None of us, except for Gandalf, ever thought that he would survive. But he did. Bilbo Baggins. I never imagined that Frodo would be the one to follow in his uncle's footsteps. It's as my cousin Balin told Bilbo – 'The courage of hobbits'.”


	2. Legolas on the subject of Mortality and Immortality

“May I ask you a question?” A moment ago, Legolas' eyes were fixed on his bow. Now he is looking at me, almost staring.

“Of course,” I answer, almost startled by his attention. “What do you want to know?”

“What is it like to be mortal?” he asks.

“I know nothing else,” I tell him, unsure how to answer. “All men are mortal.”

“How do you feel when you know you are going to die? That you cannot live forever? Are you jealous of those who can? Do you wish you could? Why would you wish to be unable to die? Would you think that a blessing of the gods or their punishment?”

“I think I understand you. Yes, I know that I will die someday. Sometimes I wish I would not die, that my brother and I could live forever, because I wish that he would not grow old and weak. When I think of those who are immortal, the elves, I am not jealous. I accept that we are different. I don't know if immortality is a blessing or a punishment. If you live your life badly, I would think it a punishment, but if you live your life well I would think it a blessing for you and your family.”

“Why would you save your brother alone from death?”

“I have no wife. My mother is dead and my father is an old man who thinks of little except for his ancestors. Faramir, my brother, is the only real family I have left, if you can understand me.”

Legolas replies with neither a yes or a no. he only asks, “Can you feel yourself grow older? Is there some sense in your body?”

“Not with every passing minute,” I answer with a smile. “But sometimes, I realize years have passed since I was a young man.”

“Is it hard for you to grow old, to know that someday you will die?”

“I think that when I become old it will be hard to know that the end of my life will be near. But at the moment, I am not old yet, and it is not hard for me to look into the future and accept what is going to happen. Aging is not as horrible as it may seem to those who are immortal. Men fear their death when it is upon them, when they are faced with their enemies, but until that time we do not spend our days thinking of what it will be like to die.”

“How do you know that you have aged?”

“As men grow old, their hair becomes gray, if it is left on their heads. It is harder for them to do things which require strength or stamina. They can be difficult to work and live with. Some of them are reckless, as if they would rather die than sink into infirmity. But some of them do little with the renown given them for their age, and waste their days thinking of the years of their lives that have passed them by long ago.”

“Do you regret being mortal? Are you bitter of your mortality or others' immortality?”

I smile. “There is an easy answer to both those questions. Never.”


	3. Merry and Pippin on the subject of Pipeweed and Teakettles

“Old Toby is the best pipeweed, for sure.” Merry removes the pipe from his mouth and blows a ring of smoke, looking pleased with himself.

“Not by a long shot!” Pippin protests, taking his own pipe from his mouth and holding it in one hand. “Southfarthing is better.”

“Southfarthing!” Merry laughs and points his pipestem at Pippin. “Southfarthing pipeweed is as useful as the glass teakettles your grandmother collected.”

“What debate engages you?” I ask, smiling. “I have not yet known you hobbits to be so eager with your words.”

“It is the subject,” Pippin says grandly, “of pipeweed.” He puts his pipe in his mouth, as if that explanation is all that is needed.

“And the usefulness of glass teakettles,” Merry adds.

“Glass teakettles!” Pippin almost shouts. “We were not discussing that. You are the only one who talked about teakettles.”

“Well, now,” I interrupt them, trying not to laugh. “Why not each of you tell me your side of the debate? Then all three of us shall learn what the other thinks. For you must remember that I know little of this pipeweed of yours, and nothing at all of teakettles.”

“Well, first of all, glass teakettles are entirely worthless,” Merry begins.

Pippin offers an indignant yelp of disapproval.

“And why is that?” I ask.

“The glass would crack from the heat of the boiling liquid, of course.” Merry tells me this as if that is common knowledge. “You must use metal for such things. Metal can withstand hot water.”

“How would you know?” Pippin demands. “You never made a pot of tea in your life. Whereas my grandmother made many a cup from her glass kettles.” He nods to me, to Merry, and puts his pipe in his mouth.

“Very weak brew, I imagine,” Merry confides to me in not-so-quiet tones.

“Well, I never had any,” Pippin says. “Tea isn't the drink for me, and I don't see as you've ever had any. You talk about teakettles and such, but have you ever made tea?”

“No, never,” Merry admits. “But I've seen many hobbits brewing it, and none of them used glass teakettles. My mother always used iron.”

“My grandmother used glass. 'Age before youth, wisdom before beauty', as the saying goes.”

“I had thought,” I say before Merry can reply, “that the original subject was pipeweed?”

“Ah, yes, Old Toby.” Merry looks at Pippin as if daring the latter to disagree with him.

“On the contrary,” Pippin offers brightly, “Southfarthing is best!”

“And how so?” I ask. “What things do you consider when you decide the merits of your leaf?”

“Well... You tell him, Pip!”

“Why me? You tell him!”

“Well, it's based mostly on the taste of the thing, I suppose,” Merry begins doubtfully. “And that depends on where and when the pipeweed was grown. Old Toby and Southfarthing have two very different tastes. Old Toby is harvested in the summer, whereas Southfarthing is harvested in the fall. Makes it musty and prone to bugs.”

I nod gravely, amazed at how much thought has gone into such a trivial subject. “And since this 'Old Toby' is harvested in summer, it has a fresher and cleaner air to it?”

“Yes,” Merry decides, as if offered the answer to his lessons in school. “It is in every way a superior pipeweed.”

“Not so!” Pippin protests.

“Very well, then,” I say. “What do you have to say for Southfarthing?”


	4. Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the text of the prompt. I did not write this. You can find it at http://ohmaglor.tumblr.com/post/86414827825/dumbkili-boromir-asking-gimli-about-erebor-and

Boromir asking Gimli about Erebor and being genuinely interested in the ensuing two hour conversation

Boromir answering Legolas when he has questions about mortal life, describing the process of aging, and assuring Legolas that it’s not as bad as it seems

Boromir letting Merry and Pip lecture him about pipe weed and tea kettles

Boromir being more than just the man who succumbed to the Ring


End file.
